Howling at the Sun
by civildefenestration
Summary: I came here for justice, said the viper to the sand; there's a princess locked inside the tower, she weeps blood at the lion's hand; kings fight for crowns while innocents face slaughter; I could not save a sister but I can save a daughter. Oberyn Martell meets the Stark sisters in King's Landing and remembers another princess.


Oberyn had come to King's' Landing with one purpose. He had come to this gods-forsaken, hellish, lions' den of a city for one reason and one reason alone. Elia. His beloved sister. His murdered sister. He had come to demand justice for Elia and her children. To wring out the poisonous truth and avenge a most grievous wrong. He was determined that justice be done and that he would have his vengeance even if he had to kill every lion in the world. Oberyn had come to King's' Landing and soon found himself another purpose.

The Stark sisters were sweet things, Oberyn thought. Just past three and ten name days, they were also completely identical. When he had first stumbled upon them in the godswood, he'd thought perhaps he had drunk too much wine for he was seeing double. They were sweet girls but beneath their smiles was a sense of profound sadness. Grief weighed upon their souls in a way he knew all too well. Two little wolves, alone in the world and far from home, he thought sadly. They reminded Oberyn of his sister Elia. She too had been a sweet and gentle thing. Elia had been the sun herself, warm and full of life. Their mother used to say that Elia had sunlight running through her veins and that it gave her strength and courage like no other. Sansa and Arya Stark had that same strength and courage as Elia did. His mind made up and his heart missing his sister, Oberyn began to plan.

Daemon Sand had been Oberyn's squire since the boy was fourteen. Oberyn trusted Daemon with his life. If there was anyone who could this, it was him.

"You know why I'm here," he'd murmured to Daemon as he was being attended to by the squire. Daemon gave a minuscule nod as he poured wine for Ellaria.

"It seems Archmaester Rigney was correct when he wrote that history is a wheel," he continued, "a princess died in this city not too long ago and so did a pair of wolves. Perhaps the wheel ought to be broken."

Daemon met his eyes and Oberyn knew he'd understood.

The boy king was choking horribly and he'd begun to turn purple. The strangler, Oberyn thought idly as he recalled Sansa Stark's strange amethyst hairnet. In the corner of his eye, Oberyn saw Daemon dart towards the Stark twins and take hold of their arms. Unnoticed by the crowd he pulled them with him, blending in among the chaos of the wedding guests fleeing the throne room. The Kingsguard had descended upon Joffrey, trying to save him. Oberyn noticed a very tall blonde girl toss a sword to the ground and rush to help the king. The sword she'd discarded clattered to the floor next to the king's own sword. Curious, they were both identical and seemed to be made of Valyrian steel. Oberyn had a dark suspicion as to where Tywin Lannister found enough Valyrian steel to make two swords.

Daemon led the Stark girls to the doors, pausing for a moment when they both ducked to the floor and snatched up the strange swords, tucking them between the folds of their dresses. The twins held on tightly to Daemon's hand as he pushed through the doors, the trio vanishing amidst the crowd. Oberyn turned his attention back towards Joffrey just as the king died. Pity, he thought, he was just a boy. As Oberyn got up and left the throne room with his fellow Dornishmen, the wails of Cersei Lannister filled the air.

Who knew wolves could be this quiet, Daemon thought, staring at the oak heart tree as he waited for the Stark twins to change their clothes. When they were done, he took their hands and together they ran, unseen and silent, through the city to the docks where a rowboat awaited them. He helped them in and began to row to a ship anchored just near the horizon. Already they could hear a bell tolling in the city.

One of the girls whispered, "Joffrey is dead."

Daemon rowed faster. When they finally reached the ship, he helped them climb up before herding them into a small cabin and barricading the door.

"Where are you taking us?" Stark demanded. Daemon wasn't sure which one.

"Away," he replied. The floor jolted and the ship started to move.

Daemon wanted to kiss the earth. They had just docked in Planky Town after having spent almost four weeks at sea. Prince Oberyn had chosen a merchant ship to avoid suspicion and to ensure that no one could figure out where they'd gone, they ended up taking the most convoluted route to Dorne. They had stopped at nearly all the Free Cities, although they did not leave their cabin. Daemon was just glad to be free of that bloody ship and judging by the expressions of the Starks, so were they.

"Where are we?" Stark asked.

"Dorne," Daemon answered, having long given up on trying to tell the twins apart.

"Oh." There was a tremble in her voice. Her sister took her hand and squeezed.

"Its okay Sansa," Ahh, so the other one is Arya, Daemon thought. "just pretend we're on an adventure." Arya Stark smiled at her sister. She looked excited at the prospect, Daemon noted to himself. "This way." He led them out of the harbor and through the town, blending in amongst the crowd. They stopped at a stable and Daemon turned to his charges, "You can ride yes?" The Starks nodded. "Good," he turned to the stable master and bought three horses.

"What kind of horses are these?" Arya asked as she and Sansa followed him to the outskirts of the town.

"These are sand steeds m'lady. They are most suited to the desert as they can run for a long time without water." Daemon turned to them and gestured, "Do you need my help to mount?"

"Yes please," Sansa replied, her sister already seated upon her own horse. "Are we to ride in the desert?" She asked with trepidation.

"Only for a short time," Daemon answered, lifting her up onto the sand steed. "Do not fear, you shall be quite safe."

"Safer than in Kings' Landing that's for sure," Arya muttered darkly.

Daemon hid a smile, he rather liked her spirit. He mounted his own horse and set off, the Stark sisters following close on his heels.

"There," Daemon brought his sand steed to a stop. The Stark twins pulled up alongside him and looked to where he pointed.

"It's beautiful," Sansa gasped. She was not wrong. Dawn crept up on the horizon, illuminating the golden dome of the Tower of the Sun. The Old Palace shimmered before them, a safe haven for fleeing princesses once again.  
"Princess Sansa, Princess Arya; welcome to Sunspear. The seat of House Nymeros Martell and the capital of Dorne."

They took a less direct route to the palace. Daemon led the Starks through the labyrinth that was the shadow city, through bazaars, homes and narrow alleys. He stopped at a nondescript inn and ushered the girls inside. "We shall stay here awhile," he said once they had reached their room, "and will leave only when the time is right."

"And when will that be?" Arya demanded. "Have we traded one cage for another?"

"Peace little wolf," Daemon held out his hand, "we must be cautious, we wouldn't want to attract any untoward attention."

Sansa took his hand, "We trust you, Ser." She glanced at her sister. "You have led us this far."

"Fine," Arya grumbled, "I guess we'll wait."

Her father had come to Sunspear. He so rarely left the Water Gardens, Arianne could only surmise that Prince Doran had come to determine what damage his brother had wrought in King's' Landing. She idly wandered through the palace, heading towards her father's solar. Raised voices attracted her attention and she crept closer to the door which was slightly ajar.

"…madness, Oberyn! Cersei Lannister is scouring the realm, she blames them for her son's death. You have placed Dorne in danger!" Prince Doran was almost shouting. Arianne had never heard her father raise his voice like that in years, not since her mother had left for Norvos.

"Danger!" Prince Oberyn scoffed. "They are little girls Doran. Little girls whose family was murdered and home taken. Little girls who were trapped and held hostage in that den of fucking lions!"

Who are they talking about, Arianne wondered. She pried open the door, praying for it to not creak, and peeked into the room. Her father was in his chair, glaring at his brother. Arianne recognized that look of anger and frustration, and she marveled at her uncle for not wavering before it.

"I went to that bloody city to see justice served. Justice for our sister, for her children, justice that has been denied too long. But what I saw," Oberyn's voice had become thick with emotion, "what I saw, was another princess, two this time, trapped and suffering at the hands of lions. I saw an innocent child who needed help and I gave it." Tears filled his eyes, "I saw Elia in those girls, Doran. I saw a chance to save my sister. Our sister."

A tense silence filled the room. "Very well," Doran sighed tiredly. "They may stay, it's safer here and there's no undoing your reckless actions."

"A good recklessness, don't you think?" Oberyn wryly arched an eyebrow.

"Send for them, I would like to meet these children."

"As you wish, my Prince." Oberyn bowed and took his brother's hand. Pressing it to his lips, he whispered, "Thank you, brother."

Arianne's brow furrowed, trying to think of who they were talking about. She heard soft footsteps behind her and whirled around, coming face to face with Ser Daemon Sand. "Princess Arianne," he bowed.

"Ser Daemon," Arianne fought to keep her composure, "who are your companions?" Unless Arianne had hit her head recently, she was sure she was seeing two girls who were completely identical, from their faces to their clothes.

"Arianne," her uncle's voice came behind her. "I see you've met our guests."

"Uncle Oberyn," she murmured, unsure of what was happening. "What is going on?"

"Come inside, I shall explain." Oberyn turned back into the room. Daemon gestured to her and she entered, the mysterious twins followed behind, escorted by him.

"My Prince, my Princess," Prince Oberyn declared once the door had been firmly shut. "May I present the Princesses Sansa and Arya of House Stark."

Arianne gaped.

Since their father had died, Sansa had felt empty. If it had not been for Arya's presence, she might have given into despair. How funny life is, she thought. Before, Sansa had never got along with her sister, even though they were twins. But now Arya was the only one she had left in this world. Their whole family was dead. Sansa did not think she could've survived Kings' Landing on her own without her sister. She'd said so once, but Arya had scoffed. "You are one of the strongest people I know Sansa." she had said. "If anyone could survive this place, it's you. You don't need anyone." Sansa smiled. "I need you," she'd told Arya who proceeded to hug her and not let go for the longest time.

A Dornishman disturbed them in the godswood whilst they were praying one evening. He introduced himself as Oberyn Martell, the brother of the ruling Prince of Dorne. Sansa had been too intimidated to speak, but Arya bombarded the man with questions about Dorne and Princess Nymeria, and about the Rhoynar and his horse, which had intrigued her since saw him ride into the city upon it. Sansa tried to scold her for bothering him, but the Prince didn't seem to mind. He'd said that Arya's inquisitive mind reminded him of his daughter Elia.

"But I thought your sister was named Elia," Sansa asked without thinking. She flushed when Arya and the Prince stopped talking and looked at her.

"Yes," Prince Oberyn said in a soft voice. "I had a sister named Elia and I named my daughter for her. You know of my sister?"

"Our father once told us about her," Arya eagerly told him.

"Is that so?" The Prince's voice went very quiet. Sansa grabbed her sister's hand, suddenly nervous.

"When we were small, Sansa like stories about princesses." Arya rolled her eyes. "She asked our parents once if they'd ever met a princess and Father told us a story of how he'd once met a beautiful princess named Elia. He said that she was the kindest person he'd ever met."

"Well he was not wrong," the Prince gave a small smile, "my sister was indeed very kind and gentle."

"We're sorry for what happened to her," Sansa whispered, her eyes watering. Arya squeezed her hand.

"Thank you." The Prince plucked two flowers from a bush and offered it to them. "I'm sorry for what happened to your family."

Sansa stared at the flower in her hand and blinked back tears. When she looked up, the prince was gone.

Ser Daemon pulled them with him as they ran to the godswood. As he waited for them to change, Sansa stared at the sword in her hand while Arya secured its twin to her side. Sansa did not know what prompted her to take the sword from the floor of the throne room, maybe somehow, something inside her recognized it as her father's sword, as Ice. Taking the sword with her, felt like having Father by her side, giving her courage, making her feel safe.

As she and Arya followed Ser Daemon to the docks, Sansa felt tears on her face. She did not know who they were for, Joffrey who died so horribly or were they for Robb and Mother, for Bran and Rickon. Maybe they were for her family, for the North, for Winterfell, for home. Sansa did not know why she was crying, only that she was.

Arya entwined their fingers together, "We're nearly there Sansa. Be brave."

They had been on the ship for near a moon as far as she could tell. Arya was impatient, she never did like staying in one place for too long. She had taken to swinging her sword around. Or at least that's what it looked like to Sansa. Ser Daemon was patiently teaching Arya how to fight with it and Sansa had never seen her sister look so happy since their father had died. The sword suited Arya, she thought. Sansa looked at her own sword, she didn't know if she could wield it. If she should.

"You are Sansa of House Stark." Arya sat down next to her. "Eldest daughter of Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn. Sister to Robb, Bran, Rickon, and Jon."

"What," Sansa looked at her sister.

"You are worthy to wield our father's sword. You are a Stark, you are of the North." Arya's eyes, gray like her own, like their father's, was piercing.

"I," Sansa faltered.

Arya took her hands and held them tightly. "You are Sansa Stark and you are my sister." She pulled Sansa into a hug. "I won't let anyone say otherwise, not even you."

Sansa squeezed her eyes shut, tears dripping down her cheeks. "I'm glad I have you."

"Me too," Arya whispered into her hair.

"Father would be pleased if he could see us now," Sansa said, her arms still clutching Arya's shoulders.

"He would be so pleased," Arya laughed softly. "His sun and moon."

Arya always knew what to say, Sansa thought, feeling much better. She didn't know what she'd do if Arya had died as well. Sansa remembered how their Father would always go to the godswood on his name day. He'd spend hours there and whenever he came back he always looked so lost. Old Nan had said once that twins could feel each others' presence in their hearts. And that if one died, their twin would have a hole in their hearts for as long as they lived. Sansa couldn't have imagined how Father had felt, having to celebrate his name day without his twin brother, her uncle Brandon. She wondered if they were reunited somewhere; if they watched over Arya and her. 

Dorne was very hot. And very dusty, she thought as they rode their sand steeds towards Sunspear. Sansa had never seen Arya look so excited. She exclaimed in delight at everything they saw. Sansa herself was a little worried. They were so far south, so far from home; wolves melt in the sun, she thought with despair.

When Prince Oberyn came to see them in the inn, he'd bid Ser Daemon to arrange a proper bath for Arya and her. The Prince also presented them with new gowns in the Dornish style. "My brother Doran has arrived. Daemon shall bring you up to the palace to meet him."

Sansa felt strange wearing Dornish clothes. Next to her Arya fidgeted. "I feel like I'm naked," she grumbled under her breath. Ser Daemon was escorting them through Sunspear. It really was a beautiful palace. "What if the Prince says we have to leave?" Sansa whispered to her sister.

"Stop worrying so much," Arya whispered back. "We have our swords, we can use them if we need to." She brushed her hand against her hip and grinned.

Sansa bit her lip, slightly reassured by Arya's confidence. They came to a stop in a large courtyard-like room. There was a finely dressed woman peeking through a door at the end of the room.

"Princess Arianne." Ser Daemon looked flustered. Sansa didn't blame him, the princess was ever so beautiful and Sansa felt her own cheeks grow hot. Prince Oberyn appeared behind the princess and beckoned them into the room, introducing them and explaining what he'd instructed Ser Daemon to do in Kings' Landing.

Prince Doran had kind eyes, Sansa noticed, like Father's. Thinking of Father always made her feel sad.

"Welcome to Sunspear, princess." Prince Doran nodded at both of them. "You have my condolences for your great loss."

Sansa gripped Arya's hand tightly and nodded, eyes glistening with fresh tears. Perhaps one day, thinking of her dead family won't always bring tears, but not today.

"My brother's daring plan to spirit you both away from King's Landing was done without my knowledge, but nevertheless, I invite you to stay here in Dorne as my wards. You will have my protection and shall be safe from those who wish you harm." Prince Doran said firmly. "I would not have innocents suffer if I could prevent it."

"I… thank you," Sansa could barely speak. "Thank you, my prince." She felt her heart swell with hope. Distantly she heard Arya echo her.

"I will leave you in my daughter's good hands," Prince Doran smiled gently. "Arianne, please make our guests comfortable."  
"Yes father," Princess Arianne approached them. "Come with me," she smiled.

Arya followed, her hand still holding tight to Sansa's. Before they left, Sansa turned back.  
"Thank you Prince Oberyn," she said earnestly.  
The Prince gave a soft smile, "You are most welcome, little wolves."

Sansa laid her fingers lightly on Daemon Sand's arm. "And thank you, Ser Daemon, for your gallantry. You are a true knight."  
Ser Daemon turned bright red and looked down. Princess Arianne giggled as she led Sansa and Arya out the door.

"Poor Daemon, I've never seen him so shy." Arianne laughed.

"I didn't mean to embarrass him," the young princess cried.  
"Oh it's quite alright, sweetling," Arianne consoled. "He doesn't mind."

The twins walked on either side of Arianne and she noted with a little envy that they were both much taller than her, despite being much younger. They were beautiful these Starks, Arianne thought. With their dark curls, grey eyes and lovely brown skin that was darker than her own, Sansa and Arya looked very much like daughters of the North. Arianne had never seen anyone from the North before, let alone identical twin Northerners. "Did you ever pretend to be each other to fool others?" she asked them curiously.

"Sometimes," one of them answered, "although we could never fool our father. He always knew who we were, but he kept our secret."  
"I think Father could always tell us apart because he too had an identical twin," the other Stark continued. "Our uncle Brandon, he was killed by the Mad King before we were born," she explained.

"So which one of you is Sansa?" Arianne asked.

"I'm Arya," the twin who'd spoken first said. "That's my sister Sansa," she pointed to the girl on Arianne 's right.

"Who's older?" Arianne looked between them.

"I am," Sansa answered.  
"Only by a few minutes," Arya huffed. "Besides it doesn't matter, because we're twins."

Arianne chuckled, "It must be nice to have a sister, I've only got brothers." Turning a corner, she waved her hand at a door before them. "This will be your room," she said opening the door. "I hope you don't mind sharing, I thought you'd prefer to be close to each other."

"We don't mind," Sansa gazed around the room. "Thank you, Princess."  
"Yes… uh, thank you." Arya repeated after her sister nudged her with an elbow.

Arianne motioned to a servant who placed a tray of food on a table. "I'll have the maids bring you some more clothes." She gestured to the food, "Please eat, you must be hungry."

"Thank you." Arya reached for some flatbread and dipped it in a chickpea paste before stuffing it in her mouth.

"Try the cake," Arianne suggested. "Lemons are plentiful in Dorne and this cake was made with some freshly picked ones."

Sansa burst into tears. Arianne stared at her in astonishment.  
Arya shrugged nonchalantly and continued eating. "Lemon cakes are her favorite."


End file.
